Why You're Here:
You've said to yourself, "beauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine."
You've often thought about what it would have been like to drop acid with Groucho Marx.
You know that until you measure it, an electron is everywhere, and your mind reels at the implications.
You'd like to get drunk on the wine from my sweet, sweet mind grapes.
You've often thought about what it would have been like to drop acid with Groucho Marx.
You know that until you measure it, an electron is everywhere, and your mind reels at the implications.
You'd like to get drunk on the wine from my sweet, sweet mind grapes.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
For the First Time in Years, I'm in Love
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Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Pretty Much What Fred Says
Can't disagree with ol' Fred here:
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Next, I will essay the unthinkable for American diplomacy, if it be such, namely cultivating some slight understanding of how others see things instead of always sending the Marines. I know, I know: I risk being called a commie homo prevert, and accused of hating America, and not being brainlessly truculent in the name of endocrine patriotism. But I will make this sacrifice for my country.
For example, Iran, which mysteriously seems not to like us. Why might Iranians not appreciate our enthusiasms for democracy and human rights? In 1953 the wretched CIA, always making trouble for us, overthrew the elected ruler and installed the Shah, a brutal bastard. What did we care? We were surfing at Malibu. Then we supported our good ally Saddam Hussein against Iran in a bloody war started for us by Saddam, and now we freeze Iran’s assets and threaten to bomb it, and we wreck its perfectly legal atomic program with funny viruses. How could that upset them? Baffling.More Fred here.
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Sunday, February 13, 2011
Green?
Supergreen.
Been thinking about verdancy.
Had enough of the soot-black, trash-strewn snow piles.
Thus ends my winter complaining.
Time for a song:
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Been thinking about verdancy.
Had enough of the soot-black, trash-strewn snow piles.
Thus ends my winter complaining.
Time for a song:
[Ignore "Read more"]
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